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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22936489">Todd’s Real Story</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Gift of Apollo [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sweet Valley High - Francine Pascal</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Hijinks &amp; Shenanigans, Slice of Life, Super Bowl, THEY’RE ALL FRIENDS, The 90s, Todd and Olivia are cousins, Warding, bridesmaids - Freeform, hospital stay</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 08:13:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,003</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22936489</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
          <p>Next up:emergency!</p>
        </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Elizabeth Wakefield/Todd Wilkins, Winston Egbert/Cara Walker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Gift of Apollo [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1433635</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Pre-launch</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>March 18,1994</p><p>As the sun rose,five men and a woman strode across the bridge into the Apollo spacecraft bound for Earth orbit. Terry Higbee,Keith Borden,Boston Low,Todd Wilkins,Cara Egbert,and Josh Culbertson strapped into Apollo M-33,call sign ‘Constant Vigilance’. </p><p><br/>The officer in charge of the launch sat in a reinforced concrete bunker that stretched over a thousand square meters, three hundred yards from the ridge. In front of him he had a console and a dozen television screens. The huge room was crammed with gauges, with men sitting in front of them with headphones, announcing each change immediately. Constantly new weather reports came in, which were evaluated immediately, data processing computers hummed, colorful lamps glowed and went out again.<br/>All the rocket’s systems had been checked during the last night - electrical, electronic, hydraulic, pneumatic and mechanic. The engines had been carefully examined, the ramp, the launch tower and the countless auxiliary units also. Finally, the devices inside the bunker had been tested-the communications, the alarms, the gauges. Nothing had been left to chance. Now the starting controller alone was responsible for the rocket - he had to decide on departure or departure.<br/>"Engines, Stage One?" "Alright." "Thrusters, Stage Two?" "All right." "Thrusters, Stage Three?" “In order."</p><p>"Autopilot and hydraulics?"<br/>"In order."<br/>The starting controller read the questions from a prepared list, the answers were recorded on tape. There were telegraph machines around him, constantly recording information, green lights flashing, machines buzzing.<br/>A warning signal sounded to prompt the operators to leave the launch pad.<br/>At T minus two hours, Higbee entered the elevator at the bottom of the launch tower; the others followed him. Higbee looked like a metal robot in his bulky spacesuit, Wilkins thought involuntarily. <br/>"Let's go to the stars! I have always known that my mother's son would go far. "<br/>Low smiled dutifully:by then they had already reached the tiny entry hatch.<br/>"Spacious," Cara Egbert said carelessly. "I could have brought a toothbrush straight."</p><p>Higbee slid into the command seat, Low sitting next to him, the rest behind them. The seats served as contour during the acceleration period. They started checking the instruments. The cabin of the Apollo was a microcosm - hermetically sealed off from the outside world, completely self-sufficient and insulated against environmental influences such as temperature fluctuations or noises. An air conditioning system automatically regulated oxygen supply, temperature compensation, humidity and air pressure.<br/>After checking the equipment, they turned on gauges that automatically recorded brain activity, heartbeats, and respiration. This information would be transferred to Earth during the flight, where it would be displayed as a curve in Mission Control. <br/>Then they waited. The Saturn swayed only slightly, but Wilkins felt as if they were reaching dangerously far. He heard a faint whistle as liquid oxygen at a temperature of minus 167 degrees Celsius flowed through thick tubes into the first stage tanks, while the second stage was additionally refueled with liquid hydrogen at a temperature of minus 217 degrees.<br/>T minus ... T minus ... At regular intervals a voice sounded in their headphones. Wilkins waited nervously and imagined his hands were shaking as he did the final checks.</p><p>T minus four minutes, clock running.<br/>Arrangements came through the radio: "Switch telemeter to automatic." "ON / OFF switch on stopwatch to ON." Other voices came forward: "comms center ... fine." "Medical Department ... fine." Apron and ramp ... all right. "<br/>T minus three minutes, clock running.</p><p>T minus one minute, clock running.<br/>The pace accelerated. Higbee felt the excitement - he felt in the voice of the starting controller, in the quick questions and answers of the others. He glanced out of the porthole. Vandenberg AFB and the bunker seemed deserted and deserted. He looked again at his instruments and winced when he had the red button in front of his eyes. He would never operate like that - not even when the cabin was on fire!<br/>Movie cameras started to run. Water poured into the exhaust duct below the main propulsion units in purged stream. The power supply cables were dropped at T minus thirty seconds. The countdown continued.<br/>"Apollo and crew?" The voice shrilled in Higbee’s ears.<br/>"Copilot?" He asked quietly. "Done," Low replied. "Engineer?"<br/>"Okay," Culbertson replied.<br/>“Apollo ready to take off, " Higbee reported.<br/>"All systems in order," came the confirmation by radio.<br/>The launcher leaned back as the green flashing light on his console signaled that the electronic pulser had now taken over the launch. The device worked much more accurately than a human could have - but the launch control could shut down the main engines until the last moment the rocket was lifted. He stared hard at one of the TV screens.<br/>Five, four, three, two, one, zero - fire!</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next up:emergency!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Abort! Abort!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first to notice a problem in the Saturn II booster was propulsion controller (PROP) Belinda ‘Billie’ Winkler. <em>15% thrust drop in Engine 2,</em>her console computer told her. <br/><br/></p><p>T plus 25 seconds. Apollo flew on its prescribed course.</p><p>”All systems in good shape”, Higbee told CSOC,Mission Control in Colorado.</p><p>”Roger that,Constant Vigilance”, said the communicator.</p><p>40 seconds. All looked good. 50 seconds. All looked good.</p><p>At 82 seconds,everything changed.</p><p>The shrill sound of an alarm echoed in the CV’s cabin. A red light shone on the control panel.</p><p>”CSOC,this is Constant Vigilance. Be advised we have a 10460 alarm.”</p><p>”That’s engine thrust drop. You’ve lost 65% of thrust in Engine 2.”</p><p>”What do you recommend? Over.”</p><p>”Stand by one......Mode 1 Charlie,salvo abort. Mode 1 Charlie,salvo abort at MECO-1.”</p><p>“Copy.”</p><p>———-</p><p>As soon as Jessica Wakefield heard about the troubles of the mission,she rushed to the phone. “Liz! They’re going to abort!”</p><p>”I heard. I’m in the launch control area. I’ll hire a carpet to get us to the recovery post.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Outline</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <ul>
<li>The crew of the first manned Venus landing - </li>
<li>Crew members:<br/>
Commander (CDR) - Fred Gregory<br/>
Pilot (PLT) - Tony Wilkins<br/>
Flight Engineer (FE) - Mark Brown<br/>
Biologist (BIO) - Lila Smith-Verra<br/>
Geology (GEO) - Keith Borden<br/>
Communications and Tracking (CATO) - Jeff Riemer</li>
</ul>
  </div></div>
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